


Come Along With Me

by elfin



Series: A Little Less Conversation [5]
Category: Stan Lee's Lucky Man (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-15
Updated: 2018-09-15
Packaged: 2019-07-12 13:23:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,336
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15996110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/elfin/pseuds/elfin
Summary: Life goes on....





	Come Along With Me

Harry went back to work. He’d taken extended leave but he’d known he’d have to go back eventually, if he wanted to keep his job. The attempt on his life by the same woman who’d attempted to murder Alistair bought him a lot of leeway without having to answer too many questions, but eventually someone would start to ask.

Suri had told him a DSI had been assigned until Alistair was ready to return, or more accurately until his doctors confirmed he was ready to return. He’d gone back to soon after the shooting at Golding’s residence, had almost torn internal stitching once or twice, had a couple of incidents they told him he couldn’t afford to have after a serious head wound. 

Harry hadn’t been at his desk more than three minutes when DSI Reeves called him into Alistair’s office. She perched on the edge of the desk and looked at him over the rims of her small glasses and smiled.

‘I’m told you’re the best officer this department has, but that in order for you to be the best, I need to give you a long leash.’ He smiled, he liked her. ‘In my experience, officers on a long leash have a tendency to hang themselves, sooner or later, but DSI Winter’s reports on you are glowing, and he tends to be a good judge of character.’

‘You know him, Ma’am?’

‘Knew him, back when we were DCs, young, fresh-faced and naive.’ He tried to imagine a young Alistair Winter but couldn’t. Less wrinkles, maybe, more hair. Maybe. Less horror in his eyes. ‘I know you have history with him too, and the nature of it makes me more wiling to accept his summary of you and his recommendations that I leave you to get on with it.’

‘Thank you.’

‘I’m hoping Alistair will be back soon and I’ll be able to return to my own office in Scotland Yard. Mind you, this place does have a better view.’

Harry nodded his agreement and took that as his cue to leave.

‘Hey! You’re back!’ Suri at least welcomed him with a hug. ‘How’s the boss?’

He shrugged. ‘She seems okay.’

‘Not her, I mean Alistair.’

‘Oh! Sorry. He’s okay. Another check up at the hospital this morning.’

‘Shouldn’t you have gone with him?’

‘He doesn’t want me to. Says I treat him as fragile enough without me hearing what the doctors tell him and seeing the scans.’

She smiled at him the same way Eve tended to now, and he rolled his eyes.

Steve bought him a coffee and he settled down to catch up on emails; the progress of trials he’d had a hand in, forensics reports backing up arrests, the usual paperwork that went hand-in-hand with the job of catching the bad guys.

At lunchtime he went out, picked up a sandwich and popped in to a couple of letting agents, got the particulars on a few flats. Alistair texted just after one to say the hospital were short staffed and he was running late, so Harry texted back that he’d pick up a takeaway on the way home.

He left at five and eased his way through London traffic back to the house, via a favourite Chinese restaurant. 

By the time he got back to the house, Alistair was as sound asleep on the sofa. He crouched down, ghosting the back of his index finger over the dark bruising still visible on the side of his head, taken back just for a moment to that night, to the blood and the grief. Blue eyes jumped open and Harry smiled. 

‘Hey.... Sorry, what time is it?’

‘Six-ish. I bought supper. What time did you get back?’

‘They saw me just after I called you. So... half two? I just thought I’d lie down for ten minutes... ‘

‘Good to know your body is taking care of itself.’ Alistair sat up carefully. ‘What did your doctor say?’

‘No work for at least another month.’ He looked pissed off about that. ‘But recovering as well as could be expected. Steady, he called it.’

‘Steady is good. Hungry?’

He nodded. ‘Give me five minutes.’

 

By the time Alistair showered and changed, Harry had the takeaway out on the table in the kitchen and was crunching his way through the prawn crackers. ‘I met your stand-in. She says she knew you, back in the day.’

‘Oh?’

‘DSI Reeves.’

‘Sarah Reeves?’ Alistair started to laugh. 

‘So you do know her.’

‘A long time ago. We used to date.’

‘Seriously? I’m reporting into your ex-girlfriend?’

‘I think ‘girlfriend' is probably overstating it.’

‘I hope it ended well.’

‘I think it did. Don’t worry, she isn’t the vindictive type. And she’ll work well with you. She’s one of the good ones.’

‘So you’ve kept in touch?’

‘I’ve bumped into her at meetings, conferences….’ He tilted his head as if studying Harry closely. ‘Are you jealous?’

‘Of course not! It’s just… odd, that’s all. An odd coincidence.’

‘Sarah Reeves isn’t bad luck. Believe me, there are worse people they could have sent. If anything, she’s evidence of someone looking out for you from on high. And before you start, I’m not talking about God, I’m talking about the Chief Constable. I think he actually likes you, and he doesn’t like anyone.’

‘I thought he hated me.’

Standing to clear the plates into the dishwasher, Alistair denied that. ‘He doesn’t hate you. I know you thought I was sent to MIS on his orders but I asked to be transferred.’ He put in a washing tablet and closed the door, switching it on, leaning back. ’I had it in for you when I arrived. I was… hurting, not just the physical pain, but the fear, the humiliation…. It had all built up into a absolute conviction that what happened to me was your fault and I wanted… revenge. I’m embarrassed to admit it, but not too proud to. Everything I did, everything I said… it felt like an uphill battle. And by the time I realised I was trying to take down a good man, a good copper, it was almost too late. So, I’m sorry.’

‘You don’t need to apologise. Water under the bridge. A hell of a lot of water.’ He got up, crossed to where Alistair was standing. ‘I’m sorry you were in pain and I didn’t notice.’ He reached for Alistair’s hands. ‘I won’t let that happen again.’

‘You’re not responsible for me.’

‘No, I’m not. But I do love you, so I’m allowed to be concerned about your wellbeing and your happiness.’

Alistair closed the gap between them and kissed him, lingering with his lips against Harry’s to murmur, ‘I love you too.’

.  
.  
.

Kevin Guild got himself murdered at 5am the following morning, when Harry was burrowed under the duvet, with Alistair in his arms. 

His mobile chirped at him at just after 6am when the first of Guild’s colleagues got into the office and found the body. 

He got to the scene a couple of minutes after Steve, a full ten minutes before Suri. She was already cradling a large coffee.

‘Late night?’

She nailed him with a stare that alone would have silenced him, but she added, ‘early one?’

He smirked, and he and Steve brought her up to speed while she gulped coffee before Reeves turned up.

.  
.  
.

He should have been suspicious when his new, temporary DSI asked if she could buy him a coffee. There was a short queue at Starbucks, there always was. It was the chance she needed to question him.

‘Out of interest, did Alistair Winter ever forgive you?’

He should have known. ’For what?’

‘The raid that went wrong, the bullet he took; the first one.’

Harry sighed. ’And he said you weren’t the type to hold a grudge.’

‘He told you about me?’

‘I asked him, he said the two of you dated.’

They reached the front of the queue and she ordered a black Americano for herself, and the same for him, tapped her phone to pay and they moved aside.

‘You knew the woman who attacked him, didn’t you?’

‘I did. She attacked me too, a couple of days earlier.’

‘It is true that Alistair was sleeping with her?’

‘Why are you so interested?’

She shrugged. ‘We were close, once. I thought it might be nice to reconnect. If it’s true that the last woman he was with tried to kill him… well, I might want to carefully consider my approach.’

Harry accepted his coffee from the barista and kept his expression neutral. ‘What makes you think he isn’t already seeing someone else?’

‘Because… the Alistair I knew takes relationships seriously.’

.  
.  
.

He didn’t go back to HQ. He put in some legwork on the Kevin Guild murder, phoned his findings to Suri and went home. Alistair was out, he’d taken to walking on a daily basis just to get some exercise and fresh air. Harry made coffee and sat down in the kitchen to look through the flat particulars he’d picked up a few days previously and had forgotten about.

Steve called him at four, told him they’d arrested a suspect based on one of Harry’s leads, and did he want to come in to lead on the questioning. In the past, Steve wouldn’t have called, so he went.

When he got back almost four hours later, Alistair was on the sofa watching the news, a bottle of red wine open on the coffee table between he and the television. The paperwork from the letting agents was in a neat pile on the island in the centre of the kitchen. Harry went upstairs, got changed, took a wine glass from the kitchen and went into the lounge.

Alistair filled his glass when he sat down. He didn’t look upset or angry, but he did switch off the television and turned to sit cross-legged on the deep cushions, side on, facing him.

Harry waited a beat, and when Alistair didn’t start, he did.

‘I think DSI Reeves wants to rekindle your romance.’

Laughter was the last thing he’d expected. ‘Did she call it that? A romance?’

‘Not in so many words….’

‘We were young. That’s basically all there is to it.’

‘She seems to think you invest heavily in your relationships.’

He reached for his wine glass. ‘I do. I haven’t had many and I do have a tendency to jump in with both feet. Then again, I invest myself completely in everything I do, or at least I try to. I know I have done with you and I’m sorry if that’s not what you wanted.’

‘Oh, I want. What I don’t want is to have to fight DSI Reeves in the station car park for you.’

‘Believe me, none of us want that.’

‘It kills me that I can’t tell her.’

Something in Alistair’s expression…. ’Why can’t you tell her?’

Harry frowned. ’Because you’re my boss.’

‘But if I wasn’t….’

He shook his head. ’Don’t do that, please.’

‘You still want to work for me?’

‘Yes! Of course I do. You know me, you trust me to get the job done. I’m too old to train another DSI….’ Alistair chuckled. ‘I would love to tell the world that we’re together. When Reeves was talking to me this afternoon, I had a sudden urge to lay claim to you like some sort of caveman. But I don’t want to risk everything else we have because everything else is really good too.’ He watched Alistair roll his shoulders, stretch his neck. ‘Are you okay?’

‘I’m fine. Just muscles cramping. You, you’ve been looking at flats.’

‘I don’t want to outstay my welcome.’

‘You know, you could never do that.’

‘This is your home, Alistair.’

‘And I like you in it. I don’t want you to leave. I want you to stay, to move in. Like I said before, this isn’t a proposal, I’m not asking for monogamy and I don’t expect it. I enjoy having you here, sharing evenings like this with you.’

Harry sipped the red. Alistair didn’t skimp on the good things in life, he knew his wines, this one was particularly good. 

‘You keep telling me you don’t expect me to be faithful to you.’

He looked suddenly guilty. ’Not because I don’t trust you. It’s because for all the years I’ve known you, you’ve been interested in women. I’ve never known you even look at another man.’

‘I could say the same about you.’

‘I’m ashamed to say, I’ve kept those liaisons quiet for the sake of my career. But you’ve never kept anything quiet for the sake of your career.’

‘In my entire life, I’ve slept with three men. One at college, one when I was on the beat, and you. Don’t think the other two meant any less to me because they were male. Don’t think you don’t mean any less to me because you’re a man. I can barely comprehend what you’ve come to mean to me. I don’t need a woman in my life, I don’t need to have sex with women to be happy. I need to be with you.’

‘So you’ll stay?’

‘If you’re sure. But you have to promise me you’ll tell me if you want me out, long before you get to the point where you want to throw me out.’

‘Harry….’

‘Promise me.’

‘I promise.’

‘Okay.’ He raised his glass and touched it to Alistair’s. 

.  
.  
.

Harry was taking DSI Reeves through all their open case files ahead of a meeting she had with the Chief Constable when two things happened at the same time. Fate loved to screw with him.

The first was a call to his mobile - Alistair - which he apologised for but told Reeves he had to take. She didn’t mind, so much of their work was done by mobile phone. 

He opened with, ‘Hi, is everything okay?’

‘Everything’s fine. Are you busy? Any chance you could come to the hospital?’

Harry was on his feet in a second. ‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing serious, I promise. Don’t break any laws getting here, and if you’re busy….’

‘I’ll be there in ten minutes.’ 

‘Harry - I’m okay.’

He glanced at Reeves, mouthing, ‘gotta go.’ She just nodded, watching him with a combination of concern and interest. He hadn’t even reached the glass door of her - Alistair’s - office when Suri opened it. 

‘Harry, Anna’s on the phone.’

Obviously, Alistair heard that. ‘Harry, speak to Anna, make sure everything’s all right. If she needs you, go to her.’

‘But you-‘

‘I swear, I’m fine.’

‘Did you even have an appointment today?’

‘Harry….’

‘Alistair, what’s happened?’

‘Find out what Anna wants then call me. Love you.’

He hung up, and Harry felt momentarily like screaming. He kept his back to Reeves as he launched himself towards his desk phone, picking it up. Anna had been put through.

‘Harry?’

‘Anna?’

‘Harry, Daisy’s had an accident, and it was an accident.’

‘What?’ He sat down, trying to slow his pulse so he could think straight. ‘They were playing hockey at school, she and another girl had a run in. She’s down in x-ray now, they think she’s broken her ankle. She was asking for you in the ambulance.’

‘So you’re at the hospital?’ He grabbed his car keys and his jacket and got back to his feet. 

‘We’re at the Royal Free A&E.’

Alistair was at St Barts. He felt physically sick. 

‘Harry?’ He looked up to see Suri and Steve standing in front of his desk. ‘What can we do?’

‘I might need you to pick Alistair up from the hospital. He won’t tell me why he’s there. Daisy’s broken her ankle and I need to get up to the RF.’

They both nodded. ‘I’ll call him from the car. If he needs a ride home, Suri, do you mind? Sorry, but he might be more comfortable…’ 

Steve nodded. ‘It’s okay, I get it.’

‘Thank you, both of you.’

‘Go. Just keep us posted, okay?’

.  
.  
.

He called Alistair’s mobile as he started the engine and got an almost immediate answer.

‘I’m still fine.’

‘I’m sorry, Daisy’s in A&E at the RF.’

‘Is she okay?’

‘Just a broken ankle, they think, playing hockey at school.’

‘It’s not just anything, Harry, she’s your daughter, you have to go to be with her.’

‘I know…. That’s why I’m sorry. I want to come to you.’

‘I know you do. But I promise you, I’m fine. They’re desperate to get me out of here, so I’ll see you at home whenever you get there.’

‘Suri wants to come out and collect you. Please, let her.’

‘MSI is not my personal taxi service.’

‘And if she gets a shout, she’ll dump you on the side of the road.’

He laughed, and the sound made Harry feel slightly better, slightly less guilty. ‘Okay. Thank you.’

‘Alistair, I love you too.’

‘I know.’

.  
.  
.

By the time he arrived at the Royal Free Hospital, he was stressed out and scared that he was in the wrong place. Daisy came first, she was his daughter and she always would come first. But she’d broken her ankle, worst case scenario. He had no idea what had happened to put Alistair back in hospital, even if it had only been for a few hours. His doctors had warned him about potential complications after a serious head wound, the list was as long as his arm.

He texted Alistair as he locked the car, just wanted to reach out. 

Are you okay?

The answer came back within thirty seconds. 

I am fine! With Suri, on my way home. Ax

He took a deep breath and headed into the hospital.

 

Anna was in the A&E waiting room, plastic cup of cold brown liquid in her hands.Harry refreshed it for her, having to use the machine because the RF wasn’t as well equipped as Barts when it came to consumer amenities. 

‘She’s in the plaster suite,’ Anna told him, rubbing her eyes. ‘I’m sorry for dragging you all the way-‘

‘Don’t apologise.’

‘How’s Alistair?’

‘He’s okay, recovering.’ He hoped he didn’t sound as if he was trying to convince himself. 

‘You’re still living there?’

Harry nodded. ‘I need to talk to you about that, actually.’

‘Let me guess, you’re not moving out.’

‘He asked me to stay.’

‘I suppose it’s more serious than you thought.’

He looked at her, trying to get a handle on her reaction. Her tone was playful, but there was a hard edge to it. ‘I love him.’ She turned her head away from him, sipped her coffee. ‘You don’t approve.’

Her head snapped back around. ’Oh, Harry. It’s not that I don’t approve, I don’t care that he’s a man, I don’t even care that he’s your boss, I care that he isn’t me. Before Isabella tried to murder you both, I honestly thought we had a chance at putting our marriage back together. I don’t know if it would have worked, maybe we’d both moved too far apart, changed too much after Golding, Isabella, everything that happened.’

He’d waited to hear those words from her in so long, to hear her say they had a chance, that he half expected to fall back in love with her in that moment, to leap on the chance she was offering. But he didn’t. ’I’m sorry. I didn’t plan this. I certainly didn’t expect it.’

‘I know you didn’t.’ Her tone softened. ‘We can’t help who we fall in love with.’

‘If we could, you wouldn’t have chosen me?’ He reached over, squeezed her hand, and she dropped her head to his shoulder.

‘Mrs Clayton?’ They both stood up as a doctor approached them. ‘Daisy’s ready to go home, we just need to issue her painkillers.’

‘Dad!’ She was in a wheelchair, pushing herself. There was a white plaster cast covering her right foot and the nurse walking beside her was carrying a pair of crutches. 

He leaned down and kissed her cheek. ‘What happened to you?!’

‘Kelly Brandon happened to me!’ She sounded in good spirits, maybe she was just on the good stuff. She turned to the nurse. ‘Can I keep the wheelchair?’

The nurse laughed. ‘Sorry, no. But just think of the arm muscles you’re going to build up using the crutches. And maybe you can get your favourite boy at school to carry your bags and your books for you?’ 

‘That’s a genius idea!”

.  
.  
.

Harry let himself in and closed, locked the door behind him. Alistair was in the kitchen, stirring something on the stove that smelt incredible. The sight of him, Harry felt himself breathing easy for the first time since he’d taken the call in Reeves’ office.

He crossed the kitchen and wrapped his arms around Alistair, hugging him tight as strong arms came up around his neck. ‘God, it’s good to see you.’

By the way Alistair was pressed against him, he felt the same way. ‘How’s Daisy?’

‘Home in front of Netflix with her right foot and ankle in plaster. She has crutches and it might be the painkillers but she seems happy with the idea of not playing hockey for the rest of the term. Tell me what happened to you.’

‘I’m fine.’

‘You keep saying that. Why were you at the hospital?’

Alistair pulled back gently, by increments, just enough to look up at him. ‘I had a… minor incident.’

‘Minor incident? That’s what we call a scuffle outside a pub.’

‘A minor seizure.’

‘A seizure? Jesus….’

‘Minor. It was over in two seconds. But when I rang my doctor he wanted to see me, he sent a paramedic, they looked me over, took me to St Barts where Doctor Russell looked me over.’

‘And?’

‘They’ve scheduled an MRI for the morning.’

‘They didn’t want to keep you in?’ Alistair didn’t answer that. ‘They did want to keep you in!’

‘I’ve spent enough time in that place. I feel absolutely fine.’

‘I’m going with you tomorrow.’

‘You need to be at work.’

‘I don’t care. Today’s been like a waking nightmare!’

Alistair wriggled free, went over to the fridge and pulled out a beer, handing it to him. ’You don’t have to worry about me so much. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but I am incredibly resilient, and very difficult to kill.’

‘And you have no idea how relieved I am about that.’ He leaned over, breathing in the fabulous aroma from the pan. ‘What are you cooking?’

‘It’s just the pomodoro sauce for the chicken that’s in the oven. I didn’t know if you’d be back tonight so-‘

‘You didn’t think I’d be back tonight?’

‘Daisy might have needed to stay in hospital, or she might have wanted to you to stay with her at home….’

‘You and I need to have a long talk about priorities, and about yours in my life.’ He looked pointedly at Alistair until he nodded. ‘Good. For now, is there anything I can do to help?’

.  
.  
.

‘I think I might have accidentally outed us to DSI Reeves.’ Timing was everything, but he hadn’t meant for Alistair to choke on his dinner. He put his glass in his hand. ‘Sorry.'

Once he’d finished choking, he started laughing. ’How?’

‘When you rang, I was in your office with her. I think I might have said your name out loud.’ He watched tears roll over Alistair’s cheeks and wasn’t sure if his apology was actually required. He gave it anyway. ‘I’m sorry if I’ve got you into trouble.’

Alistair took a deep breath and wiped his eyes. ‘Harry, I’ve had two bullets dug out of me doing this job, and those stairs Isabella threw me down were not the first stairs I’d taken head first, all in the line of duty. I’ve been punched, stabbed once, kicked, spat on. Quite frankly, it owes me. So I don’t care if she tells the Chief Constable. I don’t care if she tells the Daily Mail. I know Suri knows, I’m assuming Steve knows.’

‘Rich told them, at the hospital that night. He thought they should know… why I was in pieces.’ Alistair’s expression left him lost for words, except for the three he seemed to have said more in the last few weeks than he had in the last few years. 

‘I had to tell a couple of friends who thought my head injury might have resulted in brain damage. They accused me of being too happy for a man whose girlfriend had tried to kill him.’

Harry frowned. ‘You actually have friends?’ It earned him a snack on the arm. 

‘I’ll introduce you.’

‘I would really like that.’

 

There was something zen-like about moving around the open plan kitchen with its low lighting; loading the dishwasher, chatting quietly with Alistair, but being able to enjoy the silences. 

‘Today was coincidence, wasn’t it?’ 

Harry closed the fridge door. ‘It crossed my mind, but accidents happen, especially where teenagers and hockey sticks are involved.’

‘But my call and Anna’s coming in so close together…. You must have wondered.’

‘I did. But I’m not going to live my life constantly looking over my shoulder, second guessing everything. Life’s full of chances. I have to believe that good and bad things are going to happen to us without us making them happen.’

Alistair crossed the kitchen to stand in front of him, trailing the tips of his fingers down the front of Harry’s shirt, so Harry put his hands on Alistair’s hips, sliding down just an inch to make up for their height difference. Alistair’s hand dropped below his belt, backs of his fingers following the line of his fly. 

‘I would never have thought this about you,’ Harry murmured, trying to keep his voice level. 

‘What? That I like sex?’

‘That you crave contact. You give off a ‘keep away’ vibe, but really you want to be touched, you need to be touched.’

‘Only by a very small number of people. Right now, only by you.’ Firm fingers moulded around the curve of his erection.

‘Christ. How did I ever, ever get this lucky?’ He might have answered his own question, but Alistair closed the slight gap between them and covered Harry’s mouth with his own, sliding his tongue into Harry’s mouth. It was answer enough.

.  
.  
.

Harry rang Suri early in the morning and told her he was going to the hospital with Alistair. He’d been planning on calling the previous night, but they’d gone from the kitchen to the bedroom and the next time he’d looked at his phone it was gone midnight. He made her promise to call if he was needed. She said she’d cover for him and sent her love to Alistair, speaking between giggles, and Harry realised he could hear his brother laughing in the background. It made him smile, and as he drove, it made him wonder if a dinner party was a good idea, just he and Alistair, Rich and Suri, but he couldn’t come to any conclusion.

St Bart’s was busy but they managed to get a space not a million miles from the neurology department and Harry squeezed Alistair’s hand as they crossed the car park. 

He was taken almost immediately, leaving Harry to wait and worry in the busy waiting room which soon filled with concerned adults and bored children. It wasn’t long before he had to get out of there. He went for a walk around the campus, found the plaque that said this was where Sherlock Holmes met Doctor Watson. For a second he tried to imagine the famous detective laying eyes on his Boswell for the first time within the clean walls of the hospital, then he remembered such an encounter had never actually taken place. Amazing how real the well known characters felt. It reminded him of the first time he and Alistair had met; over-eager sergeant trying to make his mark and the guarded DI, wary of taking too many risks. Wary of taking any risks at all, at least that’s how Harry had felt about it. Right up until the moment he’d heard the shot. He remembered, he’d blocked it out but he remembered, hearing the first gunshot, the one which had hit Alistair in the stomach, and the second, the kill shot.

He stopped walking, leaned back against the hospital wall, taking a deep breath, blinking until he could be certain he wasn’t going to cry. They’d been friends, of a sort, before the raid. Despite their difference in rank, they’d found common ground; an appreciation for single malts, a love of old films. He’d forgotten, but they’d been to a couple of black and white movies together at a small cinema in Soho; beers, popcorn, just relaxing during rare days off. Maybe he should have wondered at how happy he’d been to spend his precious free time with Alistair. But he’d enjoyed his easy company. Now, it was one of the things he loved about the man, how comfortable they were with each other. Back then, it was a friendship, and it had hurt like hell when he’d lost it.

This time around, he’d been the one Alistair had woken up to. He wondered who’d been there last time.

.  
.  
.

He walked until he ended up back at the coffee shop at reception, bought a large Americano and headed back to neurology, grateful for the sign posts. He received a text from Suri which said everything was quiet, that Reeves hadn’t asked for him and that she hoped Alistair was okay; to let her know what the results were.

That his colleagues had accepted the relationship between them so easily astounded him. He’d expected scepticism, or at the very least sarcasm, from Steve, but all they’d had was unfailing support. It wasn’t like he’d ever planned to end up living with another man, his boss, when he was in his fifties. His own acceptance of the situation was a surprise too, but maybe - given everything that had happened in the last couple of years - it shouldn’t have been. There was a magic bracelet on his wrist which wouldn’t come off until he died. Having managed to wrap his brain around that fact, Alistair wasn’t a huge mental step.

‘Harry?’

His head snapped up. He’d been lost in thought. He unconsciously reached for Alistair’s hand. ‘What did they say?’

There’s nothing on the MRI. Apparently it’s not unusual for head injury patients to suffer from seizures for weeks or months afterwards. If I have another one, they’ll prescribe medication, but my doctor doesn’t want to overreact if it was a one off. The medication itself could have side effects and he doesn’t want to make things worse. They’ve taken more blood, they’re running more tests….’ He looked suddenly exhausted.

‘Come on, I’ll get you home.’

He nodded. ‘Thanks. Are you okay?’

‘I found the place Sherlock Holmes and Doctor Watson first met.’

‘You do realise that never happened.’

Harry got to his feet. ‘How did they get the bracelet off?’

‘Well, quite obviously, they didn’t.’

.  
.  
.

He knew it was a dream, but it felt so real….

_He lies so still, lifeless eyes staring upwards, blood colouring his hair. The paramedic doesn’t find a thready pulse, doesn’t bother with the oxygen mask, doesn’t talk to him because he’s no longer there._

_Harry sits with his fingers rested in Alistair’s cooling palm, crying silently. His last words to him had been cruel but necessary, Alistair’s last words to him had been angry, upset, hurt._

_Steve and Suri find them. Steve destroys the door on his way out while Suri freezes, stares, doesn’t cry. Not then._

_They say it looks like an accident. It wasn’t. Harry knows who killed him, he won’t stop now until she’s dead too, whatever it takes. He sits in Alistair’s office, in his chair, opens the drawer and takes out the well-thumbed bible. There’s no strength to be found there for him, no comfort._

_She finds him, on the roof of the building. He has to shoot her because it’s the only way Rich, Anna, Daisy, everyone he loves will be safe. Except the one person he loves that he didn’t protect, the one he didn’t save. She holds out her hand and Alistair’s silver cross dangles from her fingers. ___

____

_‘I think he’d want you to have this.’ He catches it when she drops it, and his finger tightens on the trigger…._

Harry woke suddenly, heart pounding, face wet. He turned to watch Alistair for a moment, snoring softly, chest rising and falling. Then he got out of bed as quietly as he could and grabbed his dressing gown from the back of the door.

The lounge felt cooler than the bedroom had. It was still dark out, a tiny sliver of a silver moon lighting the small yard and garden. He hadn’t been there when Isabella died. Eve had said she would deal with it, felt to blame for having started it, for involving Harry in, and in turn involving Alistair. She’d brought Alistair’s cross to him while he was still in hospital and Harry had put it in his wallet for safe keeping, waiting for the right time to give it back to him.

He stared out of the glass doors. The residual feeling of empty grief was slowly starting to subside, real life seeping back in. What he’d said to Alistair, in the early hours of the morning, in the hospital, after Isabella’s attempt on Harry’s life, was that his girlfriend was a murderer. Alistair’s reaction, naturally, was not to believe him, to get angry, to feel hurt. That exchange could have been their last and Harry knew he would have regretted it for the rest of his life.

‘Harry, everything okay?’

He turned, the words, ‘I had a nightmare’ on his lips. Alistair was standing stark naked in the doorway, bathed in the amber light from the stairs. It took a moment to remember how to speak.

‘Just a bad dream. A very, very bad dream.’ Alistair padded bare foot across the room and wrapped his arms around him, under his dressing gown. ‘Sorry I woke you. Although I’m not as sorry now as I should probably should be.’

Alistair chuckled, loosening his arms. ‘Want to talk about it?’

Harry ignored his wayward libido for the moment.

‘You won’t remember this, but when you were in a coma, I asked you a question and you’ve never answered it.’

The mix of amusement and bewilderment on Alistair’s face was gorgeous. ‘Okay…. Remind me what question it was that I never answered because I didn’t hear it?’

‘Why didn’t you call me, when you suspected Isabella wasn’t the woman you thought she was, when you realised I was right about her? Why did you go to the empty house alone?’

‘I told you, I didn’t think she’d hurt me.’

‘But you suspected she’d killed numerous people.’

‘Bad people. Criminals. Those who had got away.’

‘Why?’

Alistair took a deep breath. ‘All right. Let me put some clothes on.’ Harry immediately regretted saying no, he didn’t want to talk about it and please could they go back to bed and fuck like bunnies? Alistair vanished, returning a minute or two later in blue and cream pyjamas that looked as if they were two sizes too big for him. He beckoned Harry into the kitchen, filled the kettle and switched it on.

‘Don’t worry, we’ve got time to get back to bed before sunrise.’

‘Do you have mind reading powers?’

‘That gown isn’t hiding anything.’

Harry pulled the inadequate garment closer around him, willing his inappropriate erection to go away. ‘Sorry.’ He pulled out one of the stools from under the breakfast bar, leaning his elbows on the surface.

‘No need to apologise. It’s a huge compliment.’ He thought he might have blushed. ‘In answer to your question, I didn’t tell anyone about my suspicions because I was embarrassed.’

‘About what?’

‘I was dating a murderer, Harry. She was humiliating me. I’d been completely and utterly taken in by her.’

‘No one blames you for that. She was beautiful. Anyone would have been just as mesmerised by her.’

‘Just as blinded?’ He stirred hot chocolate into two mugs of hot water, adding a splash of brandy in each. ‘One afternoon, she came to the station and I introduced her to Steve as my girlfriend. Her expression when I said it, her tone when she spoke… I should have known something was wrong but I ignored it, I ignored a lot of things because I didn’t want to acknowledge them. Like I didn’t want to acknowledge what you were telling me that night in the hospital.’

‘But you did believe me. You set her up to go to the house.’

‘I couldn’t think of another reason for you accusing her. I thought maybe it was jealousy but you never really seemed the type. Even when Anna started seeing that guy she worked with, you just wanted her to be happy.’

‘I was never jealous of you and Isabella.’

‘I know, and I knew you wouldn’t be. Which didn’t leave a plausible explanation, other than you were telling the truth. Or at least you thought you were. That’s why I had to know, that’s why I didn’t call you, didn’t tell you what I was doing. And for that I am sorry.’

‘You don’t have to apologise. But don’t ever do anything like that again. Promise me?’

‘I promise I I’ll tell you next time I set a trap for a homicidal girlfriend.’

‘I’m hoping there won’t be any more homicidal girlfriends.’ Alistair smiled at him but but neither of them followed that line of conversation. ‘Eve told me once… Isabella was the worst luck that could ever happen to me.’ Alistair put a mug down in front of him, taking the stool next to him. ‘Thanks. I think… I was the worst luck to happen to you.’

Alistair shook his head. ‘No. I’m not having you think like that. I understand why she chose me, but it wasn’t your fault.’ He wrapped his hands around his mug; sitting close, shoulder touching Harry’s. ‘Do you remember calling me, after the fire in your apartment?’

The question surprised him. ‘I… do not. Did I really call you?’

‘You did. I asked you if you’d called the fire brigade, and you said, you had, but you probably should have asked for an ambulance too.’ 

‘You’re taking the piss….’

‘I swear, that’s what you said. I told you an ambulance would be sent along with the fire engine and I asked you if were okay. You said you were sitting on the pavement and you wished you had marshmallows. I could hear the sirens. I asked if you wanted me to come out and you said, and these were your exact words, ‘the nice men in uniforms are here’, then you hung up.’ Alistair was laughing but Harry couldn’t remember anything of that. ‘I called the control room, found out out which teams had been sent, which hospital you’d been taken to. You were asleep in triage when I got there, the doctor who’d checked you out said you’d suffered minor smoke inhalation but nothing serious, said they were keeping an eye on you but they’d throw you out soon. I called Anna and once I knew she was on her way, I came home.’

Harry was stunned. ‘I had no idea you’d even been there.’

‘I know. I just wanted to see for myself that you were okay. I didn’t need you to know I’d been.’

Reaching across, Harry stroked the backs of Alistair’s fingers where they were wrapped around his mug, tracing the lines across his knuckles. ‘Thank you for being there.’

‘You honestly don’t remember calling me?’

‘No. I don’t remember much after getting out of the house. My clearest memory is of waking up in the hospital with a nurse looking at me like she wanted me out of her hair.’

‘I was ridiculously happy that you’d called me, once I knew you were okay.’

‘Why didn’t you say anything?’

‘Such as…?’ Harry wasn’t sure. ‘Honestly, the number of people who’ve tried to kill you over the last year, it’s good you had that bracelet.’

‘I think most of them were trying to kill me because I had the bracelet. That butcher who was putting human beings into pies? He tried to chop off my arm and ended up with a meat cleaver in his skull.’

‘I remember reading the report, the body in the warehouse where we found Golding.’ Harry nodded. ‘I remember wondering how that happened.’

He picked up his mug. ‘Well, now you know.’

‘You don’t have to look quite so smug about it.’

‘Hey, I was as surprised as he was.’

‘I doubt he had time to be surprised.’

‘You may have a point.’ 

They drank in a comfortable silence, and when they’d finished, Harry turned to Alistair and started to slowly undo the buttons on the shirt of his pyjamas. ‘You know, I might not have been jealous of you sleeping with Isabella, but I did get a little bit jealous of her sleeping with you.’

Alistair pushed open the sides of Harry’s gown, trailing his fingers down his chest. ‘Get up on the bar.’ It took Harry a moment to cotton on. Then he was on his feet in a second, letting the gown drop, sitting up on the cold surface. Alistair pushed his knees apart to stand between them, put his hands on Harry’s face and kissed him. A hand on his chest pushed him back gently, and he leaned back on his hands, eyes wide as he watched Alistair take his cock in his mouth.

‘Fuck.’ 

He could have come from the sight alone, but the sensations; the cold hard surface beneath his arse and the soft, hot, wet of Alistair’s mouth and his tongue… he came embarrassingly quickly. Alistair swallowed, surged up and kissed him, licking into his mouth, letting him taste himself.

Combing his fingers through Alistair’s fine hair, Harry put his mouth next to his ear. ‘Fuck me.’ He dropped to his feet, turned and leaned forward over the bar. There was a moment when he thought Alistair was going to refuse, but he heard the opening and closing of a drawer, felt the touches to his hips, to his arse, a finger working its way inside him. 

Alistair loved to take his time, but with the right encouragement, he could be persuaded to fuck hard and fast. The angle was all wrong, and the height difference was a challenge, but Christ, it was good. And afterwards, once Harry was able to stand, they crawled back into bed and fell asleep, tangled up together, until the alarm went off.

.  
.  
.

CID called MIS out at just after four; two bodies in an empty flat in Soho. It was staged to look like the two men had shot one another, but the coroner had already concluded that their wounds couldn’t have been made by the guns left at the scene given the distance the bodies were apart. He sounded disgusted at the mistake, rather than at the crime, when he explained his findings to Harry and Suri.

At seven, Sarah Reeves rang the doorbell of Alistair’s Camden Town home. When he opened the door, she held up the bag of Chinese, unconsciously mirroring the first time he’d turned up at Harry’s flat with a takeaway.

He’d almost been expecting her, and given that Harry had already texted to say he was going to be late thanks to some rookie killer having ballsed up making a murder look like a suicide pact, it wasn’t a surprise to see her standing there.

She hugged him, gently, when he let her in. He offered her a beer, fetched the plates and chopsticks (the ones Harry had bought for them), and they ate at the kitchen table. They caught up, and that was nice. She was flirting, mildly, testing the water, seeing if the old chemistry was still there. Harry probably wouldn’t have minded if he’d taken up her unspoken but obvious offer. But he didn’t want to, and eventually she had to ask the inevitable.

‘So, is it true?’

‘Is what true?’

‘There’s a rumour that you and Harry Clayton are… close.’

‘By close, you mean…?’

‘Fucking, Alistair.’

He smiled. ‘Yes.’

‘Wow.’ She sat back. ‘One of your own officers. That’s ballsy.’

‘You didn’t believe the rumours?’

‘I didn’t think you were the type.’

‘To sleep with one of my team, or to sleep with a man.’

‘The first one. I’ve always known you’re bisexual. That Clayton is was a slight surprise. But then, I suppose we’re all capable of loving who we love and looking beyond gender.’

‘Wouldn’t that be a much kinder world?’ 

She smiled at him, and he remembered why he’d fallen for her in the first place. He got up, asked her if she wanted another beer. And that was the last thing he remembered about the evening.

.  
.  
.

Harry almost ran into Reeves in the hospital corridor.

‘He’s okay,’ were the first words out of her mouth, and Harry felt a surge of something sour. 

‘Where is he?’

Suri and Steve weren’t far behind them as she took his arm and led him through a set of double doors. A nurse’s station looked over six rooms, each big enough for two beds, each with large windows to allow the medical staff to keep a watchful eye on their patients. Harry could see Alistair sleeping in one of the beds, while a nurse checked his vitals.

‘What happened?’

‘He had a seizure. My younger brother has epilepsy, so I know what a seizure looks like. I know what to do.’

_Kneeling on the hard floor at Alistair’s side, she put her hand under his head and took her phone from the back pocket of her jeans, dialling 999._

_‘It’s okay, sweetheart,’ she reassured him, giving his address when the call was answered, identifying him as a police officer._

_His convulsions lasted no more than thirty seconds, but he lost consciousness when he stilled. She kept her hand under his head and waited for the ambulance._

‘What were you doing there?’ Harry demanded, looking for an outlet for his frustration, his unfocused anger.

‘Company for old times sake, mildly flirting. Don’t worry, he didn’t rise to it. I think he might actually be in love with you.’

‘Harry Clayton?’ They all looked up at the doctor standing in front of them.

‘Yes?’

He beckoned Harry away from the small group. ’You’re listed as Mr Winter’s LPA on his records.’

‘LPA?’

‘Lasting Power of Attorney for his health and welfare. It basically means we treat you as his next of kin.’

Harry felt sick. ‘Oh, God, he’s not -‘

‘He’s fine. He’s had a seizure, not uncommon after the head injury he suffered, but as he’s had two in as many days, his doctor has recommended medication.’

‘He’s not unconscious….’

‘He’s sleeping. He did lose consciousness, but he woke in the ambulance and although he was disorientated, he knew his name, he knew what had happened, he was lucid and aware. We’ll keep him here over night just for observation and you can take him home in the morning, once the pharmacy has issued a prescription.’

‘Okay. Thanks.’

‘You can stay if you want, be here when he wakes up.’

‘Thank you.’

‘Try not to worry. The head wound he’s recovering well from was a much bigger threat to him than this.’

.  
.  
.

‘Harry.’ 

He put down the paperback and leaned forward. ‘We have to stop meeting like this.’

Alistair looked exhausted despite Harry being the one who hadn’t slept. ’Sorry….’

‘You’ve nothing to apologise for.’

‘Sarah -‘

‘Sarah is a good woman to have around in a crisis.’ That obviously wasn’t what Alistair wanted to hear, he struggled to sit up, and Harry couldn’t watch him struggle. ‘Wait, wait! Such a stubborn….’ He sat up on the bed, leaned back against the pillows and let Alistair get comfortable leaning against him. ‘Better?’

‘Much.’ He tilted his head back and Harry kissed him.

‘They’re going to give you some pills, apparently they should stop the seizures.’

‘Can I go home?’

‘Absolutely, once we get our hands on the drugs, and work out what happened to your clothes.’ That at least got a laugh. ‘Apparently, the seizures are a side effect of the head injury.’

‘So I’ve been told.’

‘Is forgetfulness another side effect?’

‘Why?’

‘Because you forget to tell me you’ve made me power of attorney.'

‘Ah. Yes. Sorry.’

‘Ah, yes, sorry. That’s all you have to say? When did you do it?’ The answer was in Alistair’s silence. ‘Oh my God, you did it before you went to meet Isabella.’

Alistair shifted against him. ‘Can we have this conversation when I’m wearing something with a back to it?’

‘Where are you going?’

‘I need a piss. And don’t you dare suggest I use the bedpan.’

‘Believe me, I wasn’t going to. It would be good to keep some mystery in this relationship.’ He laughed softly as Alistair padded across to the bathroom, hospital gown gaping open at the back. ‘You know, there are ties. If you did them up, it would be a little less chilly.’ Alistair reached behind himself. ‘But please don’t on my behalf. The view’s great.’

His only response he got was the finger before the bathroom door closed firmly.

.  
.  
.

It was a couple of hours before the pharmacy issued Alistair’s prescription and the nurses found his clothes. Harry drove them home.

Alistair took a shower, desperate to wash off the antiseptic smell of the hospital. So Harry made a cafetiere of coffee, waited until the shower stopped and poured two mugs, taking them upstairs. Alistair was fast asleep, across the bed, still wrapped in a towel.

Leaving the mugs on the dresser, Harry lay down next to him, and within seconds, he too was asleep. When they woke, the sun was already setting.

.  
.  
.

They met two of Alistair’s friends a week later in a pub on Baker Street. Jim and Gary were ex-coppers Alistair had worked closely with in the past, and that should have rung alarm bells but Harry was so happy to be meeting them he was caught off guard. 

They were good men, shared Alistair’s dry sense of humour and had stories to match their own. They were obviously concerned for him, but they were able to reassure them that the medication seemed to be working, and he was hoping to go back to work in the not too distant future.

But there was clearly something on Jim’s mind; the way he kept looking at Harry, the wariness in his manner; not unfriendly, but not the warmth he was feeling from Gary. There was definitely something Jim wanted to say to him, and while he didn’t look like a ‘break his heart and I’ll break your legs’ man, it was probably better to let him get it off his chest. So Harry made it easy for him. 

‘My round.’ He stood and tapped Jim on the shoulder as he passed. ‘A hand? I’m not good at the two-hands-four-pints manoeuvre.’ A glance in Alistair’s direction confirmed he was right; he looked momentarily panic-stricken. He hoped his smile was reassuring.

There was a short wait at the bar, so Harry gave Jim his full attention and Jim didn’t waste the opportunity. ‘I was there, at the raid, when Alistair was shot.’ Shit. ‘I was standing behind him, saw the gun a moment before I heard the shot, watched him fall. I thought he was dead, I thought I was dead. Then I watched the shooter’s head explode when the armed guy standing behind me killed him.’ Harry waited. ‘Obviously, Alistair’s forgiven you, and that means a lot because he’s one of the best men I know and I would trust him with my life. But I wanted you to know that we care for him. The last person he fell for tried to murder him. She’s lucky she’s dead because we won’t see him hurt again.’

Harry nodded, and when the barman asked what he could get him, he ordered three beers, a lemonade, and two tequila shots. The barman did the shots first, and Harry picked them up, handed one to Jim.

‘To trust,’ he said, and Jim nodded, clinked his glass and swallowed the clear liquid in one.

Alistair looked relieved to see them back at the table, and squeezed Harry’s hand under the table, in apology.

He apologised again on the walk back to the tube. 

‘I didn’t even think.’

‘It’s fine. Jim and I talked, we reached an agreement. But it occurred to me, you and I have never talked about it.’

Alistair shrugged, a gesture Harry wasn’t used to seeing from him. He usually had an opinion, he didn’t shrug. ‘I don’t remember much about that night. The only clear memory I have is climbing out of the car and looking up at the house. After that, there’s nothing until I woke up in hospital.’

‘Was someone with you?’

He nodded. ’Jim. He hadn’t left, apparently. He’d been behind me when we entered the house. He told me, if he’d gone first he’d have been the one in the bed with the tubes. I think it took him time to accept that, to get over whatever guilt he was feeling.’

‘I’m sorry.’

‘I know.’

‘Give me your mobile phones and your wallets!’ The man who appeared from out of the darkness was trembling, his voice wavering, high as a kite. The knife in his hand was wobbling. Harry could feel the sudden tension in Alistair but he’d been here before.

‘Son, you’re more likely to have your own hand off with that thing than you are to hurt either of us.’

He thrust the blade towards them, jittery. ‘Just fucking… do what I said.’

Harry took a step forward. Any other time, place, people, this situation would have been deadly. ‘Give me the knife and this won’t end badly.’

’What?’ 

He reached out with his left hand. ’Give me the knife.’

A single stab, Alistair’s shout, the blade glancing off the bracelet, slipping up, straight into the mugger’s ribcage.

Harry followed the guy down, pressed his hands over the wound, applying pressure while Alistair rang for an ambulance.

‘I hate to say I told you so….’ 

.  
.  
.

‘You know, Harry is trouble enough on his own but the two of you together…..’

Alistair looked up, rubbing his face. ’Still your boss, DS Chohan.’

‘Sorry, Sir. We have your statements, so if you want to go home, get some rest….’

He got to his feet. ‘That sounds like a very, very good idea. Any idea where Harry is?’

She looked around. ’He was explaining to Steve how a mugger with a knife managed to stab himself.’

.  
.  
.

The taxi dropped them home at just after two am. They made it into the hall, took off their coats then Harry turned and Alistair stepped into his arms. 

‘We were never in any danger,’ he murmured, felt Alistair nod.

‘I know. But it didn’t make it any less heart stopping when he lunged at you.’

Harry stroked his hand over Alistair’s face, waited until he lifted his head and leaned in to kiss him. ‘That’s why I wanted you to have the second bracelet. They may threaten you, but they can’t hurt you. No one will ever hurt you again.’

‘Not physically.’

‘Not in any way. I love you, Alistair. That’s not going to change.’

They stood together, forehead to forehead. Alistair took Harry’s hands. ‘You know I could still die of a heart attack, so do me a favour? Try to keep the stupid risks to a minimum, please?’

‘For you, anything.’

‘Thank you. Come on, bed time. I’m absolutely exhausted.’

‘Pity.’

Alistair turned, led him upstairs. ‘Can you wait until morning? Something you should know, I am definitely a morning person.’

‘See, that’s something you should have told me months ago.’

.  
.  
.

Harry bought the drinks, Rich chose the table.

‘So Alistair’s back at work? How’s that going?’

‘Honestly? It’s indescribably good too look up from my desk and see him sitting in his office, taking calls, signing forms, reading files, the mundane, day to day, boring tasks that make up ninety percent of our jobs.’ He smiled, happy. 

‘Jesus, you’ve got it bad.’

‘It’s serious, Rich.’

Putting his hand in his pocket, Harry lifted out two plain, white gold rings, putting them on the table.

‘Wow. Are those…? But aren’t you…? I didn’t think you and Anna actually got divorced.’

‘We didn’t. I just saw these in the window of a shop, sitting on a piece of blue velvet, and I bought them. I didn’t even think. I don’t even know if they’ll fit us. I just picked them up on a whim, thought….’

‘Thought you’d get lucky. You know they’ll fit you.’

He nodded. ‘Probably.’

‘You need to talk to Anna.’

‘I know. But I wanted to give you a chance to tell me I’m being an idiot.’

‘Since when have you ever listened to anything I’ve got to say?’

‘Never. But I think I’m about to make one of decisions that shouldn’t be made on the spur of the moment.’

‘I seriously doubt this a spur of the moment thing.’ Rich picked up his glass. ‘’just tell me, why him? Of all people?'

‘Because of all people, he’s the one who just lets me be me. He’s never asked me for anything except my trust.’

‘But… and I mean this brother to brother, because I want to assure you it’s not something I’d ask almost anyone else, but… he is a man….’

‘I had noticed that, and it wasn’t a question, although I think I can guess what the question is.’

‘Sorry.’

‘No, I get it. I married Anna. Before her, and since we split up to be fair, I’ve mostly had relationships with women. And maybe that’s the reason I feel as… happy, as contented as I do now. Maybe I’ve had enough of women.’

Rich leaned forward. ‘But won’t you miss them?’

‘The last two didn’t work out so well.’

‘Anna still loves you.’

‘And I love her. But you know as well as I do, we were over a long time ago. Look, I don’t even know if this is what Alistair wants, so not a word to anyone.’

‘My lips are sealed.’

‘I hope so. Because you did out us that night in the hospital.’

‘Technically, Suri did.’

‘Steve said you were about to blab.’

‘I wanted them to know, to understand, if the worst happened and you went to pieces.’

‘Oh, I understand why you told them. I’m just saying, you’re not the best at keeping secrets.’

‘You didn’t actually ever say you and Alistair were a secret.’

‘I thought that was implied, him being my boss and everything.’

‘How about I… get us another drink?’

While he was gone, Harry took out his phone. The last text between he and Alistair was earlier that morning, when he and Suri had responded to a request for support from CID at a double shooting at a bookies in Stratford. Harry had texted him to say it was cut and dry, a run of the mill hold-up; old fashioned criminals doing old fashioned crime. The CCTV picked up faces and the two pensioners responsible had been in custody by mid-afternoon, picked up in their local boozer.

His text read, ‘All good on the western front. Be back in an hour with lunch. Want anything? H.’

Alistair’s response was, ‘Chicken, lettuce & mayo on sourdough. Thanks, Ax’

So inane and Harry loved that. When there was drama it was front and centre, immediate. There was no underlying tension that he needed to interpret, to translate. No, he didn’t miss being with a woman. 

He texted, ‘Drinks with Rich. Won’t be late. H xxx’

Rich was back with another round by the time the response came back. ‘Drinks with Sarah, might be late. Ax’

He was still staring at it when a second text came in, ‘love you’. He showed Rich.

‘Wow. You two, you’re like a pair of lovesick kids.’

‘More like a pair of horny teenagers. Seriously, I haven’t had this much sex in -‘ Rich put his hands over his ears and started to sing out of tune. ‘Sorry. All the questions you’ve been asking, I thought you were interested in my sex life.’

‘Okay, okay. I’m sorry. No more questions.’

.  
.  
.

Alistair was in the lounge, bare feet up on the coffee table, iPad in his lap, when Harry got home. He’d changed into loose jeans and a cream hoodie, and Harry wanted to alternatively hug him and eat him alive.

‘Hey,’ he took his glasses off, pulled Harry down for a long kiss which had him hard in a heart beat. ‘How’s Rich?’

Harry dropped into the sofa, stretched out and put his head in Alistair’s lap. ‘He’s fine. How’s Sarah?’

‘She’s going back to the Met tomorrow, she just wanted to say goodbye.’

‘I don’t mind.’ He looked up at Alistair upside down. ‘If you wanted to… sleep with with her, for old times’ sake….’

Alistair smiled. ‘While I appreciate the offer, and unless you’re trying to ask me or tell me something, I don’t want.’

‘No. No ulterior motive. Although… we should agree, on some level, if we’re willing to accommodate the women in each others’ lives.’

Fingers stroked through his hair, nails gentle against his scalp, and Harry felt like purring. ’You want my permission to sleep with Anna?’ 

‘No. I thought I did, but I don’t. The only person I want is you. But I get that if we’re going to do this, seriously do this, we might need to give each other some freedom.’

‘I don’t want freedom to stray, Harry. I’ve never been happier than I am now with you. If you need an out….’

‘I don’t. Like I said, I thought I did, but I don’t. I just want to be with you.’ He hesitated, reached into his jeans pocket with some effort and brought his hand up with the wedding bands on his index finger like shiny hoops. ‘This isn’t a proposal, I mean I am still married which is something I need to talk to Anna about. Also, I don’t know how this sits with your faith and you might not actually want anything like this, but I saw them and the romantic in me made me buy them. It’s not a big thing and it’s fine if we never wear them...’ A finger tip tapped his lips and he stopped talking. 

‘Yes.’

‘Yes, what?’

‘Yes, I’ll marry you.’

Harry struggled up into a sitting position. Alistair was smiling; amused, happy. 

‘Are you sure?’

That made him laugh. ‘Yes, I’m sure. As long as you are. As long as we’re aiming for monogamy, even if we don’t always achieve it.’ Harry leaned in and kissed him. 

‘I don’t need anyone else.’

‘You might miss having sex with a woman. I might.’ He kissed Harry back, effectively putting the conversation aside for the moment, changing the subject. ‘You realise the powers that be may insist on a change of working arrangements.’

‘They can insist all they want.’ Harry leaned his head against the back of the sofa, memorising every nuance of Alistair’s face; every crease, every line, day old stubble, grey hairs in the blond. Alistair didn’t shy away from the scrutiny, stared straight back. 

‘You need to speak to Anna.’

‘I know. I will. I hadn’t planned to show you these yet, not until I’d had a chance to talk to her, possibly not ever. But you make everything so simple, all the complications, all the little niggling doubts that have been in my head all day, you just… they just don’t matter when I’m with you.’

‘Why… possibly not ever?’

‘I wasn’t sure if… it was even something you’d thought about.’

‘I wasn’t sure if you’d ever consider divorcing Anna. I know you still love her.’

‘I do still love her. But I hung on to the memory of she and I for too long, hoping we could get back what we had when it was never going to happen. Our marriage was over a long time ago. I should have accepted it but I didn’t, couldn’t. Not until I almost lost you and finally I realised how important you’d become to me, how much you meant to me, how deeply I’d started to love you.’ 

Alistair stroked his arm where he’d rested it over the back of the sofa. ‘Even if Isabella had turned out to be the woman I thought she was, even if she’d been the marrying kind, I couldn’t have proposed. Because of you, because you were in my life right there beside her, taking up the spaces where she wasn’t, becoming as much a part of me as she was.’

‘I hope I didn’t steal your thunder by getting there first.’

He chuckled. ‘I’m glad you did. I’m not sure I would have had the nerve, particularly while you’re still married to Anna.’

‘Never doubt how I feel about you, okay? Never think you come second to anyone.’

‘Daisy. I’ll happily come second to Daisy. No one else.’

‘You have my word.’

‘And you have to promise me, if you feel the need for female company that goes beyond chatting in a wine bar, you’ll tell me.’

‘I promise. You don’t need to worry….’

‘I’m not. That’s… not it.’

It was rare that Harry saw Alistair blush. It might have actually been the first time. ‘Then… what is it?’

‘Before… everything, I had this… fantasy….’ He glanced away.

‘I have never wanted to hear something so badly in my life.’ He traced the curve of Alistair’s jaw with his fingertip. 

‘I’d hoped that you and I and Isabella….’ 

‘A threesome?’

’It’s just one of those things I’ve always thought about and never had the courage to seek out. Don’t all men fantasise about threesomes?’

‘I think it’s usually with two women, but I would be honoured to assist in fulfilling a lifelong fantasy of yours. We’d just need to find the right woman.’

Alistair looked up, looked at him, before surging up and pushing Harry flat on his back across the sofa, straddling his hips, kissing him hungrily. When he lifted his head, Harry’s attention was torn between the hard press of Alistair’s erection against his through their jeans, and the intense love in the bright blue staring down at him.

‘I would do anything for you,’ Harry murmured. ‘I will share you, on a temporary basis, but you’re mine, Alistair Winter, and I’m yours. Until death.’

Alistair rubbed his nose against Harry’s in a gesture so gentle it distracted him from his cock for a second. ‘Given the matching jewellery we already wear, that might be a long time coming.’

‘Maybe. Or maybe we’re just going to die of exhaustion. I’m not a teenager anymore.’

‘But you make me feel like one.’

It was another couple of hours before they actually made it to bed.

.  
.  
.

‘So this is nice,’ Anna looked around the swanky wine bar. The drinks here had to cost over and above London prices. ‘Have you and Alistair been playing the lottery?’

‘Of course not…. I like it here. They do a really good martini.’

‘Since when do you drink martinis?’ He shrugged, looking a little sheepish. ‘Is Alistair teaching you to appreciate the good things in life?’

‘A little bit. He’s not what I’d call extravagant, but he knows how to live well.’

‘It’s obviously suiting you, being with him. You look good.’

‘Thank you. You look beautiful.’

She smiled the smile she knew he’d always loved and reached for the cocktail menu, selecting the most expensive from the bottom of the list, then changing her mind just as the barman came to take ask them what they’d like. She had an inkling of why he’d asked to meet her, and the fact that he was no longer wearing his wedding ring confirmed her suspicions. In one way, it was a weight lifting from her, in another she felt a little bit like crying.

As the barman started to prepare their drinks, she reached for Harry’s hand over the bar and stroked the pale indentation on his ring finger. Suddenly it struck her that maybe he was actually planning on putting another ring where her’s had been. She couldn’t quite define the emotion that accompanied that realisation.

‘How is Alistair?’

‘He’s fine. We’re trying to make sure he takes it easy at work, doesn’t get too stressed, but he’s not good at stepping back.’

‘No more seizures?’

‘No. They stopped the medication and he’s been absolutely fine.’

‘Lucky.’

He shared the joke. ‘Very lucky. How’s Daisy?’

‘She’s good. Looking forward to spending the weekend with you. Do you have plans?’

‘Whatever she wants to do. We were thinking maybe of taking her on the London Eye but it’s up to her.’

‘She’d like that. And I think there’s a movie she wants to see.’

‘That’s fine, as long as it’s not more superhero rubbish.’

Anna decided it was time to let him into a little secret. ’It’s not the superhero movies she likes, Harry. She’s got a crush on most of the cast.’

She watched the barman make Harry’s mojito, muddling the mint. When he presented the finished cocktail alongside her passion fruit daiquiri, along with a silver platter of nuts, pretzels and tulip crisps, she finally asked him, ’So to what do I owe this exceptionally expensive drink?’

‘I need to talk to you. I need to ask you a question. And I’m not sure how you’re going to react, which is why I wanted to meet in a public place.’

She thought he was probably only half-joking. ‘I’m not going to make a scene, Harry, if you ask me almost five years after we split up for a divorce.’

It amazed her, sometimes, how men functioned with so little intuition. She supposed it would mean life remained constantly interesting, one surprise after another. 

‘How did you know…?’

‘You’ve taken your wedding ring off. You’ve been in a long term relationship for what? Over a year.’ Harry nodded. She took a sip of daiquiri. It was as good as it promised to be. ’Are you getting married again?’ 

He hesitated, but she could see it in his eyes. He was practically radiating happiness. ’Maybe. I need to talk to Daisy.’

‘She won’t mind. In fact, I would say she’ll be over the moon. She likes Alistair a great deal. And she loves seeing you happy. As do I.’

‘So, we’re going to be okay? We can still be friends?’

‘Harry, we’ll always be friends. I think maybe we make better friends than we did husband and wife.’

‘I did love you.’

‘I know you did.’

‘I’m sorry I made a mess of everything.’

‘You didn’t mean to.’

‘No, I didn’t.’

‘This is a very nice drink.’

‘I’m glad to hear it.’

She smiled at the tone of his voice. ‘You know, I am a little bit envious of Alistair. He gets this you, the you that’s an ex-gambler, has himself together, has his life back on track.’ Going by his expression, he didn’t know what to say to that. She covered his hand with hers. ‘Sorry.’

‘You’ve nothing to be sorry for. If it’s any consolation, he put up with the arsehole gambler for a while too, before he got the new me. And it did cost him.’

‘I know. I am happy, for the both of you. I really am. And I’ll be expecting an invite to the wedding.’

She watched Harry pick up his glass and tip half of the rum cocktail down his throat. ‘Well, that won’t be awkward at all.’

.  
.  
.

It was a simple ceremony in the rooftop restaurant with close friends and family. In matching dark blue suits, Harry and Alistair promised to love one another and to protect one another till death parted them. Then they kissed in front of people who’d never seen them kiss before and for some it was that moment that made it real.

Glasses in hands, they went from friend to friend, ex-girlfriend to ex-wife, brother to daughter, thanking them for coming, for supporting them, for loving them enough to accept them. Rich gave Alistair a hug and welcomed him to the family. Anna gave him a hug too, and Harry never found out what she whispered to him. 

They ate inside, sitting round small tables, the wine flowing. Daisy gave a speech afterwards in which she talked about their shared superpowers of crime solving, of catching bad guys, of going home at the end of the day with someone who understood the pain and the pride of the job. 

In the evening, the five piece jazz band played something lush and slow and they danced together, despite neither of them knowing how. Harry was distracted by the new wedding band on his ring finger, by the way the white gold shone under the lights, and he knew why he’d been so drawn to them. Unlike the matching bracelets they wore, the rings were simple in design yet meant so, so much more.

Later that night they went to the honeymoon suite of a nearby hotel and made love with the lights off and the curtains open, thousands of lights from the 180 degree view of London playing over bare skin. They slept tangled together on the huge bed, and woke exposed to the city; their city. Their playground.


End file.
